


Ain't We a Pair?

by thearkwrites



Series: The Ugly Bug Ball [3]
Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mech Preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6312397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearkwrites/pseuds/thearkwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saberhorn has a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't We a Pair?

**Author's Note:**

> Tina Turner strikes again.
> 
> Even more of Sire!Saberhorn and Carrier!Kickback due to my weakness for fluff, pregnant mechs, and a sappy combination of the two. The Saberhorn/Kickback-centric—SaberBack, if you will—conversations I've shared with [operation-robutts](http://bit.ly/1pWTZFx) are nothing short of inspiring. And the lovely comments on "What's Love Got to Do With it?" are just as uplifting.

“Leave your side?” Saberhorn said with a horrified—and, Kickback knew, for purely dramatic purposes—gasp. “ _Perish the thought_. What sort of Sire would I be if I were to dice with you and our sparklings' mortal fortunes?” He made a show of his—self-afflicted, as far as Kickback was concerned—torment, gesticulating with flourish, and then looked directly into Kickback's optics.

Kickback responded to the imploring gaze with a stony one. “The kind who knows when to give me space.” He said and put Saberhorn at arm's length.

Or tried to. Saberhorn refused to budge. Or Kickback was too weak. Either or.

“Darling, please. You know I can't.”

Kickback gave up after several minutes of futile pushing. The glare he threw at the other mech was not a kind one. “ _Ri—ight_. Glowstrike and Scorponok's orders.”

Saberhorn, as it turned out, had slipped an arm around Kickback's waist before the green mech could notice. With that arm, he pulled Kickback's body closer to his own. Their faceplates were but inches apart when Saberhorn whispered, “That, and the irresistible cocktail of pheromones radiating off us both.” The last word nearly came out muffled when Saberhorn decided to longingly kiss his mate's[1] quivering jawline.

The urge to simply kick Saberhorn away was rising. But the former pirate was too valuable a member of Glowstrike and Scorponok's cause and, by extension, his own. He would have to save his ire for less necessary targets. “ _Not here_.” Kickback hissed, optics darting to and fro nervously. The hallway they were currently walking through was, thankfully, void of other 'bots. Yet the sounds of scuttling pedes and nervous chittering could be heard just past the sharp corners. Somebot could still happen on them at any given moment.

Saberhorn understood immediately and perfectly, and was more than thrilled to propose an alternative. “Oh, of course, Kickback. We're not vulgarians after all, are we? To the berth room then.” He offered as he planted a kiss on where Kickback's nose would be. “It's almost time for your daily transfluid donations, correct?” He added.

“Uh...” Kickback stumbled.

“Haven't you been keeping track, darling?” Saberhorn sounded astonished.

“Well, if I—”

Saberhorn cut him off. “Worry not, because _I_ have. Punctuality is requisite of a gentlebot, after all [2].”

Kickback couldn't help raking his claws down his faceplate. Yes, he had forgotten about the set hour for Saberhorn's routine transfluid donations for their growing brood. No, he didn't need to, want to deal with such puffed-up pompousness right now. “ _Oh, Primus_.” Were the last words he got out before Saberhorn had begun dragging him towards their now-shared quarters. He was only being “towed by the servo” because “swept into Saberhorn's arms and carried off, bridal style” wasn't an option for them. 

But even if Saberhorn was as gentle as he could be, Kickback wasn't too keen on returning to their berth room just yet. Being inside their room was “boring” at best and “suffocating” at worst. The ten or so bitlets thriving within his distended belly weren't an excuse to lock him up for most the day, Kickback had argued. Said bitlets had transformed Kickback into a wobbly, temperamental mess who could barely stand much less hop, Saberhorn had countered. The two bots had best reach a compromise before their squabbling escalated, Glowstrike had interjected when their voices reached a wall-piercing pitch.

Their compromise wasn't perfect. But it was reasonable. Outside their quarters, Saberhorn would accompany Kickback wherever the latter went, so long as it was within the boundaries of their base. When Saberhorn's talents as a swordsmech were needed, Kickback would remain inside their quarters. The due date of their sparklings was fast approaching and, as a result, Kickback had ballooned to rather comical proportions. It was the physical discomfort and extreme boredom that had made the grasshopper-con crabbier than usual, regardless of whether or not he was roaming the base. Not that Saberhorn minded or even noticed.

“Almost there.” Saberhorn trilled.

“ _Yay_.”

A familiar set of doors loomed just ahead. Kickback heaved a despondent sigh as those doors slid open. The sight of gun-metal gray walls made his spark sink.

“Oh, by the way, dar—”

“Don't.”

“—ling, I've brought guests with me today.” Saberhorn said as he led Kickback inside and onto the berth they shared.

“Uh...” This was different. “... _who_?” Kickback asked as he settled onto his back and drew his legs closer to his body.

Saberhorn maneuvered his way between the tangle of Kickback's legs, placing himself firmly between those nimble thighs. Gray protoflesh trembled under inquisitive touches. The heat emanating from both their pelvic plating grew. His optics glinted fiercely. “ _Royalty_.”

“Say what?”

Adroit digits withdrew to dig through subspace. Triumph suddenly crossed Saberhorn's features. “Allow me the grand honor of introducing,” He brought out two items that immediately caught his mate's attention. “Duke Stuffingham and Duchess Cuddlepuff.”

Kickback stared at them; Duke Stuffingham and Duchess Cuddlepuff stared right back. As purple and green plush ponies, staring was all they could do. They stared back with shiny button eyes, and looked down at Kickback with faces of soft, pristine fabric, and touched him with pudgy hooves that were still intact. They were _new_ , Kickback soon realized.

New and all his.

His and his—their sparklings.

He couldn't believe it. “How the scrap—”

Saberhorn leaned forward and silenced Kickback with his lip-components. “Mind your glossa, darling. We wouldn't want bitlets who fling curses like toys, do we?” He teased as he hovered inches above his mate's blue-tinted faceplate. “But to answer your question, I procured Duke Stuffingham and Duchess Cuddlepuff by doing what I do best. Pirateering.”

Kickback opened his mouth to speak. The mech above him kissed him once more. “And to answer your next question, no, none of the squishies saw me. Holomatter avatars are a wonderful thing[3]. As are these things that you and our brood-to-be will surely adore. Have you any further questions?”

“No.” The green mech squeaked.

“Pity. I was hoping for another excuse to tangle with your delectable glossa.” Saberhorn tilted his helm to the side, as if thinking. “Pah, who needs one?” He decided and, after placing Duke Stuffingham and Duchess Cuddlepuff on either side of Kickback's helm, went straight to ravishing the grasshopper-con.

Things took an unexpected turn. “Saberhorn, wait! _Wait_!” Kickback shrieked, thrashing against the heavier form of the other.

Saberhorn, for his part, complied and stopped. “Something ails you, darling?”

Kickback glanced up at the purple mech shyly. Then at the plush ponies surrounding his helm. “Could we...y'know...not in front of...uh...”

Saberhorn laughed. With his faceplate this close to Kickback's audio receptors, it was a rich peal more than anything else. Very pleasant and very assuring. “Certainly.” Saberhorn rearranged Duke Stuffingham and Duchess Cuddlepuff, placing their faces against the wall. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Kickback answered with a tiny grin.

“Excellent. Now,” Saberhorn's digits groped the seams of Kickback's interface panel. “where were we?”

**Author's Note:**

> **Footnotes:**
> 
>  
> 
> [1] They're considered “mates” largely because Saberhorn has the dubious privilege of having sown his seeds in Kickback's surprisingly fertile fields. Bonding through sparks has yet to cross their processors, if at all.
> 
> [2] As will be lovingly detailed in Saberhorn's upcoming datapad compendium, “The Gentlebot's Guide to Love, Murder and Everything In Between”.
> 
> [3] One small fact that Saberhorn has glossed over is that his holomatter avatar was not of the male variety.


End file.
